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"
Are
you
ready
to
go
home
?
"
he
asked
.
"
I
’
m
ready
to
leave
,
"
I
qualified
,
overly
grateful
that
we
had
the
hour
-
long
ride
home
together
.
I
wasn
’
t
ready
to
say
goodbye
to
him
.
The
waitress
appeared
as
if
she
’
d
been
called
.
Or
watching
.
"
How
are
we
doing
?
"
she
asked
Edward
.
"
We
’
re
ready
for
the
check
,
thank
you
.
"
His
voice
was
quiet
,
rougher
,
still
reflecting
the
strain
of
our
conversation
.
It
seemed
to
muddle
her
.
He
looked
up
,
waiting
.
"
S
-
sure
,
"
she
stuttered
.
"
Here
you
go
.
"
She
pulled
a
small
leather
folder
from
the
front
pocket
of
her
black
apron
and
handed
it
to
him
.
There
was
a
bill
in
his
hand
already
.
He
slipped
it
into
the
folder
and
handed
it
right
back
to
her
.
"
No
change
.
"
He
smiled
.
Then
he
stood
up
,
and
I
scrambled
awkwardly
to
my
feet
.
She
smiled
invitingly
at
him
again
.
"
You
have
a
nice
evening
.
"
He
didn
’
t
look
away
from
me
as
he
thanked
her
.
I
suppressed
a
smile
.
